Weird

Weird

Not square nor circle

Not a shape nor line

Not a number or letter

But his own special kind

He doesn’t fit in with anyone else

But he keeps to himself

Like a nail sticking up

He sticks out like a sore thumb

Being weird doesn’t define who I am

I may not be like you or him

But I am unique in my own right

I love myself and my gifts and weaknesses

That makes me who I am

Who is to say what is normal

Is everyone normal 

Or is everyone weird?
Being myself I explore the depths 

Of the human mind

I am unique

I am special

I am one of a kind

I am me

Weird? You say?
Maybe that, too